


remind me, brother, what lies you've told me

by samalambis



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha!Sam, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dubious Consent, First Time, M/M, PWP, Porn With Plot, Somewhat, omega!dean, rlly this thing became way longer than necessary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 16:48:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8761072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samalambis/pseuds/samalambis
Summary: So some things, in Dean's opinion, are better left ignored.  And some things, in Sam's opinion, are not.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote/edited the majority of this on my shite lil phone
> 
> so
> 
> theres that

Some odd years ago, humans began to present themselves as either Alpha, Beta, or Omega.  No one really quite well _understood_ the change, seeing as it began right around the time humans discovered they could cultivate land and domesticate animals.  Mostly, they all just rolled with it.

The Alphas - now, they were the dominant, leader like person - with the odd addition of a rather strange genitalia side effect, males developing knots and females a sac which allowed them to impregnate others.  Despite these oddities, they were beloved by society as a whole, often growing up taller and broader and overall _stronger_ as individuals - they were the leaders, the CEO’s, the people who you knew of only in magazines.  The people everyone wanted to know, wanted to _be_.  

They were rare.

Then the Betas - where they simply didn’t change much at all, versatile people who weren’t leaders nor followers, no heats or ruts to change their course.  They were most of the everyday people you saw, common and simple and happy to work in the background of the alpha lead society.

And then there were the Omegas - males and females who were practically born to carry children to tend and care.  Plagued by an animalistic heat once a month which often hindered their everyday life - most planning their schedule around the dreaded three day period if they couldn’t afford suppressants.  

They often grew smaller, softer, round and sweet smelling.  Adoured for their pleasant auras and caring natures - but also their downfall, as most were treated with a tenderness one gave to someone endearing and unable to really provide for themselves.

But if your kid were to present - and that usually only happened when one or both parents were either alpha or omega -, the older kids were alphas.  The younger kids were omegas.  

Anything outside these norms stood as anomalies, and were usually looked down on, depending where you’re from.  Unless, of course, the anomaly, was a kid popping a knot instead of going into their first heat.  Then it was all cheers and prided looks.

Omega’s tended to get the short end of the stick, most the time.

It was common knowledge, however, that these norms were far more often than not, true.  Firstborn pups had the strongest of their parents genes, when they were young and virile.  Whereas the youngest were bred from the parents who were now aged, body's not as accustomed anymore to the heft of child bearing.

But of course, in matters of a Winchester’s life, they were going to roll the dice and be, quite literally, fucked in the end.

-

Now, from a breeding of two powerful alphas - and that in of itself was rare, a female alpha willing to carry pups -, Mary and John, anyone could rightfully assume that the only pups they’d have would be alphas - what with such a powerful lineage to work with.  It had been a difficult breeding, medical sciences having to intervene quite some to help Mary along with having her first child.

“Mary, we are required to warn you of a few effects that could result from these medications.”  The doctor spoke, adjusting their lab coat and the blonde woman gave them a determined brow.

“Let me have them.”  She said, stern faced and John shot her a worried look before swallowing and nodding to himself.  Mary’s choice, here, he’s simply overjoyed she’s willing to carry their pups to begin with.

“First, it may cause odd side effects in your firstborn - the medicines chemicals are strongest here, mind you - and I do strongly suggest finding a willing omega to carry your children for you because -”  

Mary intervened, there, not bothering to hear much else because despite the idea that perchance the effects could be _life threatening_ \- which to her research, were not, thankfully - she refused to let another carry these pups for her.  She escaped a life of hunting for domesticity, and that was what she’d have.  And to her knowledge, step one involved perfect husband - _hello John_ \- and step two involved house and children.  Got the house, add the children and bam - domestic.  Nothing in there allowing leeway for chickenshitting her way out of pregnancy.  To her, it’d just add flavour to the life she craved.

“Yes or no, can the effects hurt my babies?”  Mary asked, curt and to the point.

“Well - no.  Especially not in such a powerful breeding, but some effects can alter basic principles - really change up the norm.”  The doctor struggled for words, and Mary didn’t quite see the point.

“Then what’s the problem?”  She demanded, still appearing threatening in the hospital robes.  The beta doctor felt naked, despite wearing far more than their agitated patient.

“Let's say the pup was to be alpha - or, hrm, it just.  It causes rare defects that while not harmful, can be a hindrance and a defect from what others consider ‘normal.’”  The doctor ended with, trying to dodge certain word usages and it clicked in Mary’s head then.

“What - higher chance my pup will present outside the standard?  Not that bad.”  Mary shrugged the words out.

“In some places, yes.”  The doctor said, solemnly, knowing full well in others it could cause unpleasant child upbringings.

“Then I don’t care, hit me up.”  Mary said, hopping off the table and gesturing for the doctor to give her the pills that would help her body along with carrying children.  She’d be there to help her little shits out - mattered little what they presented, so long they were happy she’d be a-okay.

Long after they had driven home John finally gathered the courage to speak his concerns - though he was also alpha, his wife just seemed _alpha-alpha_ and he’d rather not fuck with that.

“Are you sure we should?  I know it largely affects the child's status but - that means a lot in some places, wouldn't you rather have someone carry the pups for us?”  He asked, then, turning to her, “I know an agency -”

“John, you know this is important to me.”

“I know, Mary, but -”

“But nothing.  I’ve dreamt of this day for a long fucking time, and we both want pups - ‘sides, we’re both alphas.  Any kid we have is going to be tough as nails - alpha or not.”

-

A few months after the doctor’s appointment the mated pair succeeded, and Mary and John became the proud parents of one tiny little bundle of joy.  A strong, healthy male, with a weight that promised he would no doubt be a powerful alpha in his prime - Dean Winchester.

Four years down the road and they managed a second kid, with far smoother sailing, and little Sam was born.  Not very loud or large, the couple assumed beta, at best.  Not that they were against having an omega son, they’d rather simply their child have an easier life - and omegas were forced to prove themselves continuously if they were to tackle the more challenging careers.

Except Mary didn’t exactly live long enough to see whether or not their predictions were true, when the fire came and went and left the Winchester’s dumbstruck and riddled with grief.

-

“Apparently, alpha’s can’t breed beta’s.  Learned that in Sex Ed.”  Eleven year old Sammy mentioned out of nowhere, and Dean didn't get the kids point.

John was out, on a hunt, and with Dean’s fifteenth birthday so close he wanted his son close to home and safe when he popped his knot.

“Your point?”  Dean asked from staring at himself in the mirror, he was raking a comb through his hair and looking at how large John’s jacket was on him - meant for the broad shoulders of an alpha that in a few short years Dean would undoubtedly fit.

“Also learned about the dangers of an alpha-alpha mated pair.  I dunno’, just boring stuff.”  Sam muttered in reply, pulling at his sleeves and staring at the sheets of homework in front of him.  Made Dean laugh the kid even bothered - he didn’t.

“What’re you getting at?”  Dean said, slinging into the seat across from his brother.

“Did you know male omegas are looked down on in some places?  I mean, omegas don’t have the best standings.”  Sam hid his eyes beneath bangs, arms crossed as he continued, “I think it’s shit.  Shouldn’t matter what you do when you hit fifteen.  Still a person.”  The kid bit out and Dean furrowed his brow.

“Language.”  Dean said first, then, “Is this about my birthday coming up?  Look.  I’m going to be an alpha and so are you when the time comes.”  He gestured to Sam.  “You’re small now but who isn’t at your age?  You’ll fill out and pop your knot in no time, kid.”  Dean said, figuring that’s what’s been on his mind.  Sam was small, even for his age, and Dean winced at what teasing his brother must endure at school when they pass through the more southern states of the US.

“How are you so sure?”  Sam said, glaring through shaggy bangs.

“You’re a Winchester, and besides that, both mom and dad were alpha’s, it’s in our _genes_ or whatever.”  Dean replied.

“What if we're both omegas, or worse - both alphas?  I know how bad fighting gets in households with just alphas.”  Sam said, genuine worry clear in his voice.  And the ending bit was true - if one too many alphas lived in such close quarters, fights oft broke out.

“And what if we both end up beta?  Pointless what-if’s, Sam.  Now finish your homework you geek and I’m gonna catch a nap.”

“Whatever.”  Sam muttered, and that was that.

-

Two weeks and Dad still wasn’t home, only proof he was fine the stash of money sent their way a few days ago.  Early birthday gift - an apology for the fact he most likely wouldn’t be there for Dean’s presenting.

Sam was at school, grumbled about having to go for once because he wanted to be there but Dean told him to go, it’d be fine, it’s just a knot.

And at first Dean was a little disheartened at having none of his family be there, but going by the strange, warm cramping in his lower abdominal region and the odd, gooey heat seeping through his brain - he was kind of glad.

He had spent all morning with cocky arrogance, bought himself some snacks at the nearby convenience store, excited and ready as he even got himself some nice clothes with the money because even though money was scarce - it was his _presenting_ day, and when he pops his knot, well, getting a local job whenever dad left longterm would be hands down _easy_.

Except - Dean’s pretty sure that this - this _heat_ he’s feeling, feverish and shivery as he struggled up from his bed to look at himself in the mirror - this heat he was feeling was not the side effects of a knot.  Dean Winchester was not popping a knot.

Dean Winchester was going into heat.

“Fuck.”  Dean slurred out, slumping on the sinks open counter top and looking into his already glazed eyes.  He felt slick everywhere, slicker even in his pants and he barely resisted the urge to prod a few fingers back there and try and scratch the _itch_ that’s digging meat claws into his gut.  He felt hollow, empty, needed something to fill the space and secure him as his mind turned to muddled mush and his body didn’t quite move in time with his planned actions.

He fell on his ass, panting, scenting the air and pressing his face into his hands as he burned with more than shame.  This isn’t what was supposed to happen, he was Dean Winchester, first borne of two _alphas_ , at the least - he should have been a _beta_ .  Not - not an _omega._

He whimpered out, softly, biting his lower lip as his hole leaked steadily in his boxers.  He wanted to touch himself there, to fill where he felt so empty and quiet the clamouring need to be taken.  But refusing because this was _wrong_ \- _he_ was wrong.  He shouldn’t be reduced to this pathetic mess.  He felt disgusting, sick.

“Dean?”  Said a familiar voice, and Dean let out a relieved yet broken sob.  Dad - Dad was home and he can fix this but _Dad was home_ and he was going to see what a fuck up his older son was.

“Dad, Dad I’m not - this - Dad, I don’t.”  Dean sobbed out, broken as he struggled to find his voice amidst everything befuddling his mind.

“Fuck, son.”  John muttered out, his words distant and if Dean was in the right headspace, maybe he would place the tone as worried and not disappointed with what a spectacular failure he’s being.

Later, when John got his son under the spray of cold water from the shower, and Dean was feeling a bit more like himself shivering under the weak current, the boy begged his father a question.

“Are you disappointed?”  The _in me_ was gleefully left out, and Dean sounded ten times his age as he asked.

John took a moment to answer, and every second his dad didn’t reply felt like a dagger in his heart - still fluttering wildly under the pressure of his heat.

Finally, his father said quietly, “No,” and set a reassuring hand on his shoulder.  Dean didn’t believe him.

“Where’s Sam?”  Dean asked, to change the subject.

“At the library.”  And of course John would drop him off there, can’t let little Sammy see what’s become of his tough older brother.

“Did he see me?”

“Figured you wouldn’t want him too.”  John said, and Dean chuckled self deprecatingly, into his shoulder where John couldn’t see nor hear under the spray of water because somehow, to Dean, felt more like _John_ didn’t want Sam to see.

“Don’t tell him - if he,” Dean broke off, biting into his lower lip as another convulsion wracked his body but the cold water helped to keep most of the heat’s mind muddling effects away.  “If he asks, say - say I’m alpha.  I’m big enough, he’ll believe it.  He needs to.”  Sam needed to know he’s got big brother alpha to take keep him safe from the monsters that go bump in the night.

John didn’t say anything in reply, just grunted and stepped away and Dean was grateful for the space between them.

“Gonna get you suppressants.  And a - uhm, well.  You know.”  John couldn’t say the word, and between the clumping of his eyelashes beneath the weight of water, Dean could see the faint blush staining his father’s cheeks.  John was going to fetch his son a fake knot, cheap and mostly for just this one time, if the suppressants were anything to go by.  Got to hide what Dean really is, after all.

In the silence of John closing and locking the motel door behind him, Dean sobbed quiet relief.  Let his hands slide beneath the soaked denim of jeans and prod at the soft empty space between his legs, completely ignoring his erect dick because touching it would be useless at this point, not when he felt so bereft.

And at the first tentative press of fingers inside himself, Dean broke a little.

-

Years flew by, and once Dean successfully repressed the _hurtangry_ feelings of presenting omega, he fell into the patterns of pretend-alpha rather easy.  By the time he turned nineteen, though slight in the hips and a little too pretty in the face, he was a tall and strong young man, and with the help of his father, most people passed him as that one oddly pretty alpha.  

Life was good, as long as Dean wasn’t left too long to his own thoughts and devices, he could actually _believe_ for a second he was an alpha, and not some shoddy pretend.  By then Sam’s fifteenth birthday was right around the corner, and Sammy was still small, and Dean found some small comfort in at least maybe he wouldn’t be the only fuck up around.  

Maybe when Sam presented omega Dean could ‘come out’, metaphorically speaking, and John wouldn’t be so strangely distant with Dean anymore.  Because - hey, if both his sons turned up omega, what’d be the point?

-

Sam’s birthday rolled around, and the house they were borrowing from a friend of John’s was somber, quiet.

Their father was tense, nervous, and had bought Sam a few gifts he knew his younger had been eyeing - with some help from Dean, of course.  New shoes and some nicer school supplies because Sam was a nerd and decided books and pencils were perfectly good birthday gifts.

However, despite the merriments of store bought cake and plastic bagged gifts, Sam hadn’t said much aside from thanks.  The most expressive he got was a tense smile when John handed him his first official knife, and a more honest with Dean’s gift of a new backpack.

“What’s eating ya’, birthday boy?”  Dean asked when John left to get them some special treat Sam decided he wanted.  Dean’s guessing it was less about sweets and more about ridding of their father for a few moments.  Though mostly cheerful - Sam shared a very - _tense_ , relationship with John, and today they’d been surprisingly civil.  Dean was grateful for the breather.

“What if I don’t present at all?”  Sam asked, quiet and staring over his half eaten slice of cake.

“Then you don’t.”  Dean said, simple as that.  Dean’d actually prefer it that way - not that he’d say.

“What if I present _omega_ ?”  And the tinge of fear in Sam's voice at that…   _stung_ , but Dean hid the pain well with practiced motions.

“So you’ll be a badass omega?  What’re you getting at, Sammy?”  Dean asked.

“I’m.”  Sam stopped, biting at his lower lip and struggling for words.  “I’m scared, Dean.”

“Of what?”

“If I present omega or beta - Dad.  He’ll.  Will he be disappointed in me?”  Sam asked and Dean full on laughed at that.   _Sam_ being worried over _John’s_ opinion?

“Sam, it’s not like you’ve ever cared much about that _before_.”  Because seriously - kid fought with dad like it’s an olympic sport and he’s going for gold.

“I’m serious, Dean!”  Sam hissed out, and Dean sombered at the real look of fear in Sam’s eyes.  Reminded Dean how Sam looked on Dean’s own fifteenth.  He winced when he recalled that day - not the best time for Dean, no.

“Look, Dad can be an ass at times, Sam, but he’s not a _knothead_ , alright?  As long as you can shoot a gun and gank a monster - he’ll love you.”  Dean said, as honestly as he could.  And yeah, Dean wanted to believe the words himself.  

Dad never did act the same around Dean since he presented omega.

Sam quieted at this, but Dean could see another storm brewing in Lil Sammy’s forehead and he sighed under his breath.

“Alright, share with the class.”  Dean said and Sam shot him an open look.

“Would you care?”  Sam asked, soft and quiet and Dean recoiled in shock.

“What?  Jesus - _no_ , of course not!”  Said Dean, fast as he stood for emphasis, palms flat on the table as he goaded his brother to look him square in the eye.  “Look, no matter you present beta, or omega, or alpha - you’re still my pain in the ass little brother who could go for a haircut, alright?”

Dean wasn’t halfway done with the word _alright_ before Sam shot from his seat to hug his side, shoulders shaking and Dean softened.  Omega instincts caving under the need to nurture and soothe and he pet a hand through Sam’s hair.

“Thank you, Dean.”  Sam said, rubbing snot into Dean’s jacket and the older brother frowned a little at that - this jacket was expensive, pardon Sam’s tears.

“Yeah, yeah princess.”  Dean muttered, false exasperation in his tone as he gave Sam an open, if not tired, grin.

-

Despite all the huss and fuss, despite Dean’s expectations - Sam, the still short-lanky-teen presented alpha not a few hours past noon.  His eyes were comically wide as he shouted from the bathroom how _he’s got a knot, he’s an alpha just like Dean and Dad, won’t be a squirt forever_ \- and Dean?  Dean felt like curling up and dying right then.

Through the held back tears he congratulated Sam, told him he just _knew_ the kid had it in him.  Always too angry and quick to fight back against alpha father, always ready to fight and prove his point.  And maybe that’s why Dean presented omega, he never once thought about going against his Father, always just rolled over and accepted Dad’s word as law.  He was always a pathetic kid trying to suck up to the alpha.  But not Sam - never Sam.  Kid stood his ground no matter what, come hell or high water.

And if Dean thought Sam’s rebellious ways were bad before he popped a knot, well, they just got worse after.  Kid turned sixteen and suddenly he couldn’t stop growing, shooting up like a fucking sprout in the sunlight and conveniently forgetting which size was considered ‘human’.

Kid grew taller than Dean in just a few short months of angst and painful stretching - Dean doing his best to ignore the strange effect this new taller Sam had on him - , and by the time Dean found the heart-wrenching acceptance letter from Stanford, Sam was bigger than Dad.  Not quite broad yet, but definitely getting there, he was an alpha capable of making his own decisions and choices and could most easily get himself where he wanted.  

If Sam wanted something, he got it, and what college could turn down an aspiring lawyer of alpha lineage down?

-

Sam and John’s last fight was the worst of all others before it, John shattering a lamp and Sam breaking the hinge of the bathroom door.  

Outsiders steered clear of Room 12A as two obvious alpha’s went at it inside.  As long as no bloody murder screams went out, the ratty motel manager could care less.

Dean, unable to feel or understand their rage hid himself away in the bathroom, his imperfect solitude ruined when Sam demanded his brother’s input and Dean could give him nothing but a turned down head - damn omega instincts - and a softly whispered apology.  He barely locked down the need to bare his neck in some way of calming Sam but held fast - he was supposed to be an alpha.  But alpha’s don’t cower in bathroom showers while a fight of this proportion rages on.

Sam stared at him a moment after the strange response from Dean, an odd glint in his eye as if he was just handed a puzzle piece he couldn’t quite figure out yet before being dragged back into the fray of his argument with John’s newest slander yelled.

Dean was glad for the new distraction, and covered his ears until hours passed and John left the motel rooming shouting if Sam wasn’t gone by the time he got back, there would be hell to pay.

“Get out of the bathroom and face the fucking music, Dean.”  Sam bit out, bitter and riddled with rage and Dean swallowed roughly the urge to run and hide from angry alpha.  He stumbled up and out of the bathtub, and Dean stared at him with red rimmed eyes.

“Whose side you on anyways?”  Sam asked, his eyes cold rage and Sam can’t really expect Dean to give him an honest answer on that.

“Sammy, you know I -”

“Don’t _Sammy_ me, Dean.”  Sam sneered and he pulled out the crumpled acceptance letter John had thrown at him so hatefully not twenty minutes ago.

“Sam, please.  You don’t have to go.  You can stay, we - we can fix this.  Dad’s just angry, you know how he is, he’ll calm down.”  Halfway through his pleas the held back tears fell, and something in Sam visibly softened at the sight of them.  

“Dean.  You know I have to go,” Sam said as he stepped towards Dean, and it took everything in Dean not to mime his brother’s movements, “Know I can’t stay.”  Sam said, softer this time, so close Dean could feel the heat radiating off his brother and Dean wondered when he shuffled forward, himself.  

“Sammy.”  Dean said, everything held in that one little word, all the heartbreak and rejection, the denial and disbelief at this outright stain on their family’s supposed unwavering loyalty.

“Dean.”  Sam said in reply, and he leaned down, his lips dangerously close to Dean’s but they held fast, shy inches and Dean had to cross his eyes to stare into his brother’s.  Sam was searching his eyes, looking for something and Dean didn’t know what as he struggled to keep their unwarranted staring contest going.

Sudden as a whisper, Sam’s hand snaked around Dean’s waist to grab a handful of Dean’s ass.  Dean let out a yelp, face burning because he wasn’t quite sure what the fuck was going on.  One second, Sam and John were fighting, hateful spews and curses thrown this way and that and Dean caught in the fray of it all.  The next, in the almost too quiet and too painful to bear aftermath Dean found them huddled too close, too warm, and he shuddered at the implications in Sam’s greedy hand.

Dean’s mind swam, he was hurt, he was angry, and now, in this odd embrace, hadn’t a clue how to feel.  Sam made a soft, affirming sound in the still room, and perhaps Dean assumed, momentarily, Sam had found that missing puzzle piece.

“You’re not an alpha, are you?”  Sam asked, soft and quick and the words ran cold daggers down Dean’s spine.

Dean pushed roughly at Sam’s chest, the still not broad thing it was sure to be in the next few years, and felt anger for the first in a long time.  “Fuck you.”  Dean said, unsure why so much fury unfurled in his chest.  Where the fuck did that come from, Sam’s question - and for that matter, what the fuck right did Sam even have, grabbing at Dean like that after the fireworks he and John caused and then asking such a thing?

He squared himself.  He may not be as tall, but he was still broader, still more skilled than his fucker of a brother and Sam stared at him with impassive, cold eyes.  The previous softness that warmed their edges draining away and Sam bared his teeth, sharp canines meant to puncture and mark glinting dangerously and Dean twitched with the need to submit at the sight of a very, very unhappy alpha.

“Think I haven’t caught on to your dirty little secret, Dean?”  Sam said, and he was skating some dangerously thin waters.

“Fuck.  You.”  Said Dean, again, fists balled and shaking with rage.

“With that body of yours, don’t think you do much of the fucking.”  Sam said, and seriously, what the fucking hell?  Was Sam on a suicide mission?  Bombing every bridge he’s got going on and the tears in Dean’s eye flowed with a renewed force as Sam poked and prodded at things Dean himself tries not to think about - fucks with the things better left unmentioned.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, Sam?  Leaving family behind?  Going against our backs and just - fucking, _fuck you_ !”  Dean yelled out, tone breaking under the weight of what was going on and Sam - the fucking filthy piece of _shit_ \- just shrugged his shoulders, looking like he’s won, reached checkmate and Dean shook with the fury.

“Found your pills, Dean, found the scent suppressor.  If anyone’s going against anyone’s backs, well, think we’re projecting a bit?”  Sam said, as if he’s got all the fucking answers and Dean couldn’t take it anymore.  Lunging forward he punched his brother, square on the nose, hearing a satisfying crack as he denied every omega instinct in his body that demanded he kiss up to alpha.  Fuck that noise.

“Get the fuck out, Sam.”  He growled out as Sam landed ass first, holding his broken nose.  Dean watched blood seep through bony fingers, and Sam was quiet where he was, staring at the motel carpet as it was the most interesting thing in the whole world.

“Alright then.”  Sam said, and it was soft, barely the span of one shaky breath, a blink of an eye really, and Dean found himself tackled to the ground.

Dean grunted as his head cracked against the wall, pain blooming spots in his vision and he struggled against Sam.  The kid had his face in Dean’s neck, big hands grappling for Dean’s wrists and Sam huffed out his victory when he clenched down cruelly on them both, equally trapped in one of Sam’s large paws.  Dean kicked against him, attempting to buck his brother off but Sam held fast.

“Get the fuck off me!”  Dean struggled out, trying and failing to get out from under Sam - he stilled, however, ice quick, when he felt the faintest scrape of teeth against his neck.  “Sam?”  He whispered out, scared, and though he tried his best to avoid any and all information on alpha-omega matings, he knew what an alpha’s bite there meant.

Sam didn’t say anything, teeth scraping so gently over the point where Dean’s neck met his collarbone, humming out in consideration almost and Dean began to pant in fear.  “Sam.  Sam, think about what you’re doing here.”

“I am.”  Sam rumbled, voice ten times deeper and it sounded so wrong in Dean’s ears, wronger even, that the tone of Sam’s voice made his stomach clench not in disgust but - anticipation.

“Let me up, Sam.”  Dean whispered out, shaky, jolting with each soft scrape of teeth.  

“Do you really want me to?”  Sam asked, free hand slipping down to palm at Dean’s dick through his jeans and Dean jolted, a sick gasp clawing it’s way up and out his throat.

“Sam.”

“You can come with me.”  Sam said, and the offer might’ve been tempting if not for Sam’s _hand_ on his _dick_.

“ _Sammy_.”  Dean whimpered, a plea for more or to let him go, he wasn’t sure.

“Dad wouldn’t even see that coming, would he?  Daddy’s little soldier leaving too.”  The second the sentence left Sam’s mouth the air turned sour, Dean’s blood that was too hot and too fast in his ears turning to frozen mush as the implications of Sam’s statement crawled snail pace through his mind.

Sam was just trying to get back at dad.  Was just going to use Dean, wasn’t he?  Cool.  Fine, alright - Dean fought back the pain and revulsion that reared up ugly in his gut, and with one heave of immense effort tossed Sam off of him.  He headbutted Sam’s jaw when the fucker had the gall to look him in the eyes, cracking Sam’s head up as he shoved with all his might, the alpha flying back and hitting a bed with a grunt of pain.

Sam rubbed at his sore jaw, blood trickling from where he bit into his lip and he hissed through red teeth at the sting.  Dean stared at him, wide eyed and heart beating hummingbird quick.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?  Trying to fucking _use_ me against dad?”  Dean asked, broken hearted, because what he was, an _omega_ , was already bad enough.  That his brother tried to use him against dad with bonding them - that right there was such a low blow Dean didn’t even bother to hold back the sob that choked out.  Fuck Sam.

“Wait - Dean.  That wasn’t -  Dude, you have to know that’s not the only -”  Sam stuttered out, but Dean wasn’t listening.

“Dad’s gonna be home soon.”  Dean said, quietly, his voice a hoarse thing.

“Dean, _please_.”  Sam said, and for the first time this night he sounded neither angry or arrogant, instead - hurt.  Dean dared a peek, and saw the red rimmed eyes of Sam and the desperate slant of his face.  Sam finally looked his age, a young man who's made mistakes and needed his older brother to fix it.  Yeah, well not this time.

“Stanford’s waiting, Sammy.”  Dean said, and he closed his eyes, couldn’t face Sam, couldn’t bear to witness his younger brother stumble to his feet.  Clutching his small bag of belongings close and quietly stepping out the motel door, presumably holding his bloodied nose and Dean hid his face in his hands.

“I’m sorry, Dean.”  Sam said.

And then he was gone.

-

Two years pass without a single fucking word from Sam, not a one, and John seemed quite alright to go on and pretend his youngest son never even existed.  And yeah - maybe Dean found the idea tantalizing after the shit Sam pulled before hightailing it to California.

He did, even entertain the idea, thinking that maybe it would stop the sluggish bleeding of that wound Sam ripped open after fucking his mind thoroughly then _ditching_ the family.  Ditching _Dean_.

He was nearing precipice of going with it, because it hurt too much to think on Sam and his bright eyes and goofy dimpled grin - only to be followed with Sam’s heated eyes, angry snarl, and jostling words _Daddy’s little soldier_ \- and that, that dichotomy, was something Dean sorta fucking _did not enjoy._

But then Christmas Eve rolled around, and John went off to a bar decidedly alone, leaving Dean with his thoughts and a bottle of jack.  He stared at the shoddy christmas decorations of the room, stared dimly at the tv playing some popular christmas special and jumped when a sudden vibration from his pocket called his attention.

He pulled out the phone, the tiny illuminated screen reading out a name that filled his heart equal parts dread and hope.

_Sam._

Only one Sam in Dean’s contact, and he stared shell shocked at the tiny print for what felt like hours.  Until his phone quieted and the screen notified him of one new voice message.

With shaking fingers he tapped at the small keyboard, wondering what the voice mail had to say - his long overdue _real_ apology from Sam, and not the poor excuse one from before.  He put the phone to his ear, pressed tight against the headboard, and closed his eyes with a shaky breath when Sam’s voice, heavy with alcohol, slipped through.

“ _Dean, Dean you fucking asshole I - I hope you’re alright and just ignoring me.  Fucking hope.  I’m just,”_ long pause here, and Dean waited impatiently for him to continue.  “ _I’m sorry.  About before.  I want - I want you to know that’s not how I meant to do that.  To you, that is.”_

Wait what?

“ _I kinda figured a while ago you weren’t an alpha.  Wasn’t till the fight I really figured.  But - jesus, Dean, you have to believe me, I wouldn’t mate you just to get back at dad.  Fucking never.  I.”_  Sam paused again, and Dean’s head swam, heart pounding because every word Sam said was making thinking and breathing a lot harder to do.

“ _I kinda always wanted you.  Like that.  And I’m sorry I did that - Dean, I’m so fucking sorry.  Please stay safe -_ ”  And the voicemail cuts off, having reached maximum length and Dean - well Dean’s feeling a whole new level of mindfucked after that.

 _I kinda always wanted you_.  Replayed over and over in his head as he desperately drunk the night away, alone, watching shitty motel porn and jerking off desperately to the thought of big hands and heated eyes.  And if he cried into his pillow as he spilled, well, no one to witness but him and his good old friend jack.

_-_

_“You should come over for my birthday, Dean.  Guys are throwing a party for me.  It’d be nice to see you._ ”  Came a text, almost a year after the travesty of a voice message and Dean’s heart jumped out of his throat when he got it.

“ _We have a lot to talk about, here’s the coordinates._ ”

And Dean could respond to these, but he simply stared wide eyed as the little messages fluttered in, his phones annoying jingle buzzing off and he drunk in the location greedily.

He could go.

“ _Scratch that - it’d be amazing to see you.  Please?_ ”

Dean didn’t reply.  And he didn’t go.

The day of the party, when Dean was knee deep in a swamp and covered in the guts of a freshly cut down monster, and trying his best to _not_ think of the date, he got one last text.

“ _You’re an asshole._ ”

And yeah - Dean was.

_-_

It’s not like Dean was particularly looking forward to getting Sam from Stanford.  They had left each other - or moreover _Sam_ left _him_ \- on such bad terms the thought of seeing his brothers face again was both nerve wracking and almost exciting.  It’s almost been four years, enough time for what Sam did - _what he said_ \- to scab over, enough close calls on hunts for Dean to decide fuck it - repress it, find Sammy, hope the little shit did to.  

Enough time for _I kinda always wanted you_ to sink in to some extent.

Not that Dean knew if he particularly returned the favour - Sam was his little brother after all, and as long as they don’t talk about it, or the voice mail, they’d be fine.  Dean would be fine.  Peachy-fucking-keen - honest.

Dean felt this mostly because he _had_ too.  Despite the play pretend alpha he got almost too good at doing, he was still an omega on his own and even if the chances are slim someone calls him out - an omega by themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time, well, _not pleasant_ .  Not to mention, he’s running low on suppressants and if he has to pick them up himself - Dean’s _pretty_ , and without John the gruff and tough alpha, people will connect the dots.

So with dad missing and Dean unsure of what to do with himself, he sought out Sam at his idiot college, at his dumb apartments, and at his stupid-fucking-at-least-it-has-salt-lines-room.  Dean hid the pleased smirk that brought him as he entered, breathing in the familiar scent of _Sam_ mingled with - with another's?  Roommate - or something more?  

Dean didn’t want to know, unsure of how he felt with the thought of Sam with another after that drunken message and crept his way across the unknown landscape of Sam’s living room.  He stopped short when he came across photos, and in the moonlit darkness he could make out tiny faces of all kinds, all smiling and cheerful and Sam always to be found somewhere.

It hurt that he barely recognized this Sam, dimpled grin still in place, but this man was at best - a stranger, now.  Dean leaned over to brush a finger over one particular picture of Sam at a party, his birthday specifically, the one Sam sent him coordinates to that Dean never went to because he’s chickenshit.  

Sam looked _happy_ , just fine without Dean, surrounded by _friends_ and _normalcy_ \- why even bother sending Dean the address if Dean was just a reminder of everything fucked up in his life?  

Dean was drawn from his gloomy reverie, gasp knocked out of him when from behind he was tackled by a large and powerful force.  They grappled for a few seconds, before Dean’s leg got the right leverage and he swapped their positions, kneeling over the attacker and pausing just short of getting his hand at their throat.

Because in the darkness Dean was steadily adjusting to he made out fox eyes and an angular jaw, and his heart panged while his eyes roamed over the _familiar-unfamiliar_ landscapes of Sam’s new face.  It’s _Sam_ , the stupid fuck that’s been missing.  The doubly stupid fuck who should be grateful Dean was willing to repress his dumb fucking move from before.  That stupid fuck.

But then, in Sam’s own trained efficiency, he flipped them, and Dean felt only a small thrill of - _panic_ \- _anticipation_ \- he wasn’t sure he wanted to look into either or - before reminding himself this Sam isn’t pissed off and looking for revenge.  Nor is this the Sam from his unlikely imaginings - this Sam just looks confused to all hell, and a little murderous at the intruder to his humble abode.

Right - probably not a smart idea to break into an alpha’s home.  They tend to be territorial, and not to mention much stronger and deadlier than the average person.

“Easy there, tiger.”  Dean chuckled out, breathless.

“Dean?”  Said Sam, equally out of air and sounding lost - relieved - a million things in one.

“The one and only.” Dean replied, playing it cool, acting like he hadn’t envisioned a hundred different ways this meeting could have gone.  And yeah, maybe a few were concocted when he was drunk and involved Sam kissing the daylights out of him - among other things.  He was off subject.

“What are you doing here?”  Sam asks, awe in his tone and the question kind of hurt.  Sure Sam was stupid and a dick before he left, but they were still _family_ \- shouldn’t be that shocking Dean would want to visit.  Then again, after the spectacular show their last time together was - maybe Sam had some proper grounding to be, well, _awed_.

And also maybe because Dean broke in, instead of knocking on the front door.  That’s beside the point.

“Well -”  Dean said, ready to spew out the recent fuck up on dad’s part when light fluttered into the room, fluorescent sharp and too yellow.  Dean squinted his eyes, and Sam rolled off him with a breathless name muttered that made Dean’s gut clench.

“Jessica.”  Sam greeted, and Dean looked over to see a tall freckled blonde, attractive and young, staring at them both with a furrowed brow.  By her stance Dean felt she didn’t feel too threatened by Dean the current stranger intruding her home, and Dean guessed that living with a - Dean recounted Sam’s new ID he checked up on for reference and winced - _six foot four_ gigantor alpha helped with that.

“Jessica.”  Dean repeated, softly, as he rolled to his feet and came to stand a few inches from Sam, feeling almost threatened by her.  Who was she anyway?

“Sam, care to tell me who our burglar is?”  She asked, pretty pink lips shaping the words and she had such a pleasant voice.  Dean decided he hated her.

“This is - Dean, my brother.”  Sam said and - yeah, Dean was his brother.  Right.

“You have a brother?”  She said, and she had this little smile on her face like she’s used to discovering facts about Sam that should be common but _weren’t_.  Dean thought again his take on her and doubly decided yeah, he really doesn’t like her.

“‘Course he has a brother, Dean Winchester, pleased to meet ya’.”  Dean said, chipper and lascivious grin in place while he looked her up and down.  He even wiggled his eyebrows for effect, despite the bad taste she left in his mouth.  Play the role, Dean thought, of Sam’s alpha big brother.  

This Jessica huffed a laugh at his wandering eyes, as if she expected something like this or simply knew he was laying on the charms thick for jest - Dean suspected the latter.  She seemed smart, green eyes aware and watching Dean’s face for any sign of something or the other.  Dean shuffled under the undivided attention.

“Dean, huh?”  She said, and Dean shoved his hands in his pockets.  Nodded with a shrug, and if he stood just a few more inches closer to Sam than he should’ve, meeting her eyes with a silent challenge, it was just the signs of an protective older brother - s’all.

“Dean,” said Sam, looking between them both with odd eyes and Dean craned his neck up to look at his brother.  Kid’s unfairly tall.  “What, uh - what’re you doing here?”  Sam asked, again, and Dean gave a pointed look to Jessica.

Sam’s brow furrowed at that, and he left his rightful spot at _Dean’s_ side, to stand by Jessica’s, and Dean hid his resentment well.

“Anything you have to tell me, you can tell Jessica, too.”  Sam said, forehead set all determined like.  Dean was going to have fun ruining that, as he glared at the hand Sam sat proprietary at the base of Jessica’s back.

“Oh, sure - Dad’s been on a hunting trip,” Dean paused, licked his lips, and looked between the two with an uncaring air paired with wide eyes, “And he hasn’t been back for a few weeks.”

That got Sam’s attention, and his little snooty expression up and off.

Dean grinned.

-

Dean was having the time of his life.

He had Sam in the passengers, metallica blasting through the Impalas radio and a stretch of road in front of them.  It was pretty fucking great, despite Sam’s doomsday glare and huffed replies.

They were heading off to finish the hunt their dad hadn’t - the hunt that Dean was supposed to do himself. The hunt Dean didn’t want to do himself.

And when he turned his head over to look at Sam glaring out the window, arms crossed and shoulders tight, he couldn’t stop the helpless grin that slipped onto his face.  Dean was _happy_ , for the first time in a long time.  Despite Sam living with what’s-her-face and acting like Dean being back was the worst thing since he got that B that one time.

As long as Dean just blocks out those bits of information - well, then he was feeling just fine.

-

“So, whose Jessica?”  Dean asked, sudden, when they just finished situating themselves in the Sunny Hills Motel.  The decor was all yellows and oranges - some too neon for Dean’s liking.  And after a long day of interviewing and research, it all just felt that extra flare more offensive to his eyes.

“She’s Jess.”  Sam replied, as if that answered anything.

Dean quirked a brow his way, taking the bed by the door even though Sam already deposited his stuff there.  Instincts on Sam’s part to settle in the spot most open to danger - and it would be Dean’s instincts to listen and go to the furthest bed, except Dean’s had years practice ignoring those and it was _his_ job to keep Sam safe anyway.

“Defensive, much?”  Dean quipped, Sam glaring as his bag was shoved to the floor.  He picked it up with a huff, tossing it on the second bed and shrugging his shoulders.

“She’s my girlfriend.  Been for a year now.”  Said Sam, more helpful and though Dean _knew_ that - it still stung.  

“She an alpha, too?”  Dean asked, unsure why he needed to know.

“Beta.”

Ah.  Better than an _omega_ , of course.  Better than the omega across from Sam who Sam _already_ admitted -albeit drunk when he did - that he _kinda always wanted_.  Dean’s cheerful smile fell away into something more mirthful - tinged with heavy distaste.

“Thought alphas couldn’t mate betas?”  Dean asked, goading.

“We make it work.”  Sam said, looking at Dean with a curious, yet irritated expression.

“Guess a betas better than an omega, right?”  Dean said, feeling particularly self destructive as he turned to walk into the bathroom.  Stopped only a few feet into his escape by Sam, blocking his path with one long arm, who glared down at him through shaggy bangs.  Dean hated the need that urged him to sweep back the hair so they could be face to face.

“What’re you getting at, Dean?”

What was he getting at?  He couldn’t quite remember, looking up into Sam’s determined eyes.  The phonecall, perchance, was what he would’ve mentioned.  His mouth had other plans.

“How was your birthday?”  He asked, referring to the one he was invited to shy of eleven months ago, the one he never went to.  It was out of place, off topic, but the image of Sam’s face, smile oddly strained as Jessica hung close to his side, almost comforting - the image stuck superglue to his forefront mind.

“It was a birthday.”  Sam said, voice low like he was hurt and it looked like he had more to say on the subject but held his tongue.

“Fun?”  Dean asked, soft.  And off course it would have to be - they were young college students.

“Dean - what’re you getting at here?”  Sam asked again in favour of answering.

“I don’t know.”  Said Dean, soft and quiet as he turned his head down and away from Sam’s flecking red ones.  He felt more than heard the sharp intake of breath from Sam, his brother’s eyes intent on Dean.  And Dean right then felt a little like dying, and didn’t think twice about escaping to the bathroom and away from Sam’s prying eyes.

The next morning - they didn’t talk about it, and Dean went back to being his cheerful overjoyed-Sam’s-back self.  Sam helpfully went along with it, but the rest of the hunt Sam stayed quieter, closer, and so Dean had no complaints - Dean just went back to laughing at everything.

-

Dean stopped laughing when Sam almost died _the stupid fuck_ and stopped smiling when Sam, despite the taste of the old world, despite the subtle pleas from Dean - still wanted to stay.  Still wanted to finish college and get his law degree and become a lawyer and have _normal_.

And Dean stopped breathing when the fire came, shot back to that day all those years ago - when he was four and Sammy was so small, fragile.  He thought nothing of charging up into that small apartment, pulling at Sam with all his might because Sam was _heavy_ and strong, but he managed to get his brother’s attention.

“Sammy!”  Dean shouted over the roar of the fire, crackling embers and the echoing scream of Jessica ringing still in his head.  He had both hands on Sam’s left arm, desperately yanking Sam out of the doorway and into the living room that was very quickly catching on fire.

Sam turned to him with alpha-red eyes, pain stricken across his face and with the bared teeth combo - Sam looked bloodthirsty, and it took everything in Dean not to cower at Sam’s fury.  His omega instincts to please were overridden with the instincts to keep Sammy _safe_ , and right now, in the fire, was far from safe.

“The demon - he - he’s _still in there_ , Dean.”  Sam growled back, low and deadly and Dean shivered.

“Yes and there’s still a goddamned _building_ ready to fall down on our fucking heads!”  Shouted Dean back, tugged fervent at Sam and he finally managed to get Sam from the living room entrance to the actual entrance.

His brother stopped short, eyes raking over his home rapid fire and landing last on the photos becoming nothing but crisps in the flames.  Sam looked ready to dive bomb for the few survivors, Dean feeling the bunching and anticipation coursing through Sam’s frame and Dean was having none of that right now.

“ _Sam_ ,”  Dean hissed out, claws digging in and he shamelessly let his omega influence the tone, pleading and low and pitched perfect for an alpha to unwillingly _listen_ , at least, “We have to go now or else the demon’s adding all of us to that list he’s got going for the Winchesters, alright?”  Dean said, and Sam softened, awareness there and Dean was grateful, momentarily, that Sam responded easy to Dean’s omega.

“Dean.”  Sam said, heartbroken and lost and finally let Dean lead him out of the building, stumbling and heavy but _following_ and _alive_ and Dean wanted to leap for joy as they escaped the lick of flames.

He held Sam close when the fire department came, his little brother curled tight into his chest and clawing at his back with choked gasps and tears.  Dean sat, staring helplessly at the top of Sam’s head, carding his fingers through Sam’s hair and soothing him best he can.

He thought on what Sam lost, that pretty girl who appeared too smart for her own good and his _home_ that he made away from his old life.  Lost it to the demon that took mom away and then - quick and sudden, like a dagger to his heart, Dean figured he must’ve lead the demon Sam’s applepie way.  

Because Dean was selfish and scared to be alone - no dad to tell him what to do, no _alpha_ guidance.  Even though Dean could damn well take care of himself - he didn’t want to.  He didn’t want to be alone.

Dean wasn’t grinning anymore.

-

The first few weeks were hell - Sam either a zombie or a damn workaholic - finally understanding dad’s need to find the demon.  To the point even _Dean_ told him that maybe, they could do with a break.

It wasn’t until Dean noticed his already low suppressants were down to four - _just four days left_ \- that he put his foot down on a break.  They’d need to head into a city, soon, and despite how shitty the atmosphere was, it would get a whole level shittier if Dean had to go through his first heat after blocking them for more than _ten years_.  

“Sam.”  Said Dean, stern as they settled in their motel room in some fucking state - Dean lost track after their, oh, _fourth hunt_ in _three weeks_.  Sam was pushing himself to an early grave - with an unwilling Dean not far behind.  Dean liked hunting and all, but a little celebrating between them didn’t hurt any.

“What?”  Sam quipped, his voice hoarse from lack of use and Dean scratched at his neck.

“Can’t we contact Bobby to put someone on this case?  I need to head into a city.  Soon.”  Dean enunciated.  Sam cast him an unsavoury glare and Dean gave one to match.  His _alpha_ brother didn’t have to deal the whole shebang of getting their hands on suppressants just to have a functioning schedule.

“Why?  So we can take a break while that demons _still_ out there, Dean?”  Sam said, teeth bared and Dean prided himself on not shirking under the dominant gesture.

“Yeah, we could go for a break, but-”

“But _nothing_ , Dean.  Jess - Jess _died_ because of that fuck, we can’t afford to stop.”  Interrupted Sam, one finger pointing to the outside world and Dean felt a short hot anger unfurl in his chest.

“No, Sam, _you_ can afford to keep going, _I_ , however, _can’t_.”  Dean said, glaring up into Sam’s slanted eyes and Sam simply stared back, heavy bags prominent.  Dean would often weaken at the exhaustion on Sam’s face but - Dean’s close to a miniature panic at the current moment in time.

“What?  Suddenly you don’t want to hunt?  Thought you were _the_ Dean Winchester, always up for a good hunt - no matter who or what you’re hurting.”  Sam damn near sneered out and Dean twitched at the way he said his name with such scorn.

“Fuck you.”  Dean said, standing his ground.

“Yeah, thought we covered that.”  Said Sam, just as angry and itching for a proper fight.

“Sam.”  Dean growled out in warning.

“What?  Finally gonna stand up to an alpha, Dean?  Or wait - you still pretending to be what you’re not?  ‘Cause I still can’t place a scent to you.”  Sam made a little show of sniffing the air and Dean bit the inside of his cheek.

He did his best to ignore the taunts, thinking how Sam was just grieving - still hurt and angry by Jessica’s death.  He didn’t get very far when all he could think of was how Sam left him for four years, had to go and fuck with him with that damned phone call and then - after Dean let Sam drag him into a whole new crusade Sam’s got to be a little bitch about it.

“You know what, Sam?  I’m not going to fucking deal with this.  You can mope and cry and maybe eventually get the fuck over it - but you can fuck right off if you wanna drag me into your little emofest.”  Dean slew out, and yeah - he got it.  Kid’s girlfriend died, boo-fucking-hoo.  But they were Winchester’s, and Winchester’s don’t spend weeks crying over shit like this, they drink their sorrows and move on, for better or worse.

“Fuck you, Dean.”  Sam growled out, low and dangerous and within seconds Sam was standing right in front of Dean.  Towering and shaking with rage and Dean stared back up with a surprising calm air despite the angry to all hell alpha breathing down at him.

“Yeah?  Well fuck you too.”  Dean said with a perhaps too-cheery grin.

Sam made a sound akin to a breaking machine, fists clenched and one raised up, looming like a threat and Dean side glanced the thing.

“Gonna hit me, Sammy?”

Sam didn’t reply, staring at Dean like he wanted to - like smashing Dean’s mouth in would change anything.  Dean didn’t feel threatened.

“Well?”  Dean asked, when Sam continued to stare at him like Dean was the Demon incarnate.

“Why - do you want - to leave the case?”  Sam bit out, piece by piece, instead of going for the violent route his alpha was insisting he take.

Dean stared up into Sam’s reddened eyes, entertained the idea of simply not telling Sam and going to get them himself despite the hell it would be.  But Sam _was_ exhausted, and was still his little brother, was still someone Dean’s omega readily begged him to care for.

“I’m low on suppressants.”  Dean admitted finally, sore and quiet into the tense air.  He hated having to talk about them.  Reminders he didn’t need when all he had to do was look at other omegas and see the prettiness they all seemed to have in common.  Dean was taller than your average omega at least, and could defend himself decently for it.

“What?”  Sam snapped out, unable to properly hear Dean’s soft words.

“Suppressants, dick.  They - you know, block my heats.”  Dean disliked the words tumbling out of his mouth, but they were necessary as he dared a look into Sam’s slit eyes.

Sam deflated at that, shoulders slumping and Dean kept his eyes firmly on the carpet as his brother blinked with realization.

“Oh.”  Muttered Sam, stumbling back from his brother.

“Yeah.”  Dean scratched at his arm.

“Why haven’t you gotten them yourself?”  Sam asked, worry in his eyes and Dean adamantly avoided looking into them.

“S’fucking hard.  Easier if you have an alpha there.  Less questions.”  Dean said, and the words left a bad taste on his tongue.

“Oh - shit, I’m.”  Sam started to stutter.  Dean held a finger up to silence him.

“Save it princess, apologies _after_ I have the fucking pills.”  Dean said, trying for light hearted humour but his voice sounded off, like how Dean felt currently.

“Fuck - Dean, but, don’t they - you know.  Have bad side effects?”  Sam asked, speaking soft like Dean was a kid or some shit and Dean was thinking maybe he’d prefer angry Sam to this.  At least angry Sam didn’t look as bereft as Dean feels right about now.

“Yeah but - it’s not like, you know, it really matters in our line of work.”  Dean was speaking about the chances of becoming barren if one was to use the suppressants for too long.  In Dean’s case the chances only got higher each year, seeing as he’s never actually experienced a heat since his first all that time ago.

Besides, Dean wasn’t even sure if he wanted pups of his own - oh, but he did want his own kids, sorely, but giving himself hope of something as stupid and apple pie as that was - wasn’t worth it.  And if he did somehow end up with kids - they sure as hell wouldn’t grow up like he did.

“Dean.”  Said Sam, tone gentle, and Dean bristled under his skin.

“What?”  Dean quipped out, looking at Sam with heavy irritation and Sam stepped back even further.

“I - you know.  I’m.  Well.”

“What?”  Snapped Dean, again, louder this time because the conversations lately haven’t been the most enjoyable.

“I’m sorry.”  Sam said.  Sounded oddly familiar and it’s like they were back all those years ago.  Like Sam wasn’t grieving a dead lover and Dean wasn’t desperately trying to keep them together under the guise of the big daddy hunt - find _the_ demon.

“For what?”  Dean left out the _this time_ that tried hard to follow next, and Sam stared quite unhelpful like at the space next to Dean’s head, sheepish.

“Sorry.”  Sam repeated, as if that made a difference, and his face fell flat like it did when he recalled Jessica or some other shit while he pushed past Dean and entered the bathroom.

Dean just wanted to sleep, at this point.

-

Thankfully, Sam let their conversation from last night go to the recesses of everyone's minds as he went back to blank facing the drive to the nearest city.  Dean was grateful for it, as things about them were tense enough.

Sam these days just didn’t know how to act around Dean, it felt like.  Seeing as the kid bounces between royally pissed and bloodthirsty, to this mopey husk of his brother - to some awkward in between where he’s quiet, with this odd calculating air about him.  Dean would much prefer it if his brother chose one setting and just went with it through the grieving process.

Their Dad chose anger - and it got him pretty far, in Dean’s biased opinion.  But Dad as of current was a sore spot, and so Dean shrugged those thoughts to the back of his mind and focused on the miles the Impala was eating up as they neared Dallas city.

Not the most preferred place to pick up suppressants, but as Dean thought to his three pills left he decided - he didn’t feel much like being picky.  He just wanted it up and over.

-

“I’ll wait in the car.”  Dean said, parking in front of the almost decent looking Planned Parenthood building.  Sam shot him a worried look from the passengers and Dean adamantly avoided eye contact.

“What if I don’t get the right brand?”  Sam asked, and Dean figured he had a point.  Digging into the glove compartment he pulled out his almost empty prescription bottle.  

“Here.”  He said, tossing it at Sam who caught it mid air, confused.

“And this is?”

“Just pay them whatever fucking price you have to to get that refilled, alright?  If you’re buying I won’t have to deal with all the fucking annoying questions they ask.”  And if Sam’s buying Dean won’t have to think too heavily on them.  Just go back to pretending they’re vitamins or some shit.

“Won’t they think - I don’t know.  I guess, uhm, I’ll be right back.”

“Whatever.”  Dean sullenly said, watching as Sam exited the car in an awkward tumble.  Graceful as a bull as he got to his feet and left.

Dean was relatively fine by himself in the car.  He couldn’t help but recall all the questions the workers always asked him - like why he chose to go on the pill, doesn’t he want kids of his own, and does he not know of the dangerous side effects?  Dean hated going through the motions, because he’d like to just get the damn pill and leave, but most workers took it upon themselves to convince Dean to _embrace_ who he was or some shit.  

Their opinions mean jack diddly squat to Dean, because more than half of them weren’t omegas - they couldn’t say shit.

An hour past of Dean brooding and Sam returned, a little red faced, but nonetheless carrying a bag with the distinctive sound of pills jangling about and Dean gratefully pulled it from his brother’s slack grip.

“Thanks.”  Dean muttered, instantly relieved at the sight of the bottle, nice and filled.

“They, uhm - they ask a lot questions, don’t they?”  Sam said.

“Yeah, they do.”  Dean agreed, putting the car into drive as he left the parking lot - and city - as far behind as he could.

-

“You should go off suppressants.”

It had been seven months, and so much shit had taken place - hunts, dad coming back then _leaving_ again like everyone inevitably did in Dean’s life, Sam being a whiny bitch for the longest time before coming around at last.  At least since Sam had to pick him up suppressants the kid stopped picking stupid fucking fights with him.  Dean was just too tired to deal with those.

But back to the current point in time - that being, shitty diner, shitty nostalgic diner food, and Sam’s bitchface as he picked at his shitty nostalgic diner green salad after making such a stupid statement.

“What?”  Dean asked over his greasy burger, extra onions spilling out and Dean couldn’t even start on why Sam would think up such a stupid thing.  After the first incident relating the stupid pills they stopped fighting as much, and fell even easier into hunting together again.  It was almost blissful - despite all the occurrences where they were assumed mates.

Dean recalled the latest mistaking of that, a lovely elderly man smiling at them only a couple weeks ago and saying what an ‘adorable pair of mates they are’.  He ignored their stutterings, walking off to his own lover and forgetting the two he left red faced - Dean both loved and hated those moments.  Where he could pretend, if not for a moment, he and Sam _were_ a mated pair, and things _weren’t_ fucked up - but then hated it all the same because the thoughts left jagged holes of _maybe’s_ and _if’s_ he didn’t like thinking on.

“I read into some of the side effects and - we already take week breaks between hunts, we could just plan our trips around them.”  Sam said, and the _them_ being Dean’s heats.  Which he hasn’t had to go through for about ten years now.  Which he doesn’t plant to go through again for about _never_.

“Yeah, no?  Fuck that noise.”  Said Dean, taking a large bite of his burger and chewing open mouthed.  Sam made a squicked expression and Dean grinned around the food.

“I’m serious, Dean.  Some of these effects are…  I’d just feel safer knowing you’re off them.”  Sam said, stern and hints of alpha slipping through and Dean put his burger down with a slight glare.

“What ‘effects’?  That I’ll go barren?  And who exactly am I supposed to be having kids with?  And second - oh no, _I never have heats again_?  How ever will I survive without those fucking me up once a month?”  Dean said, dryly, and Sam swallowed.

“Those aren’t the only side effects!”  Hissed out Sam, and Dean arched an unimpressed brow.  “Look, you’re an omega whether you accept it or not, and your body is meant to go through heats - not experiencing them is extremely damaging.  Higher risks of cancer, damages to organs - and not to mention a total lack of hormone production.  That causes insanity, Dean.”

“Well look who did their homework.”  Dean said to the information thrown his way, information of which he _already knew_ and could care less for.  In his line of work he wasn’t really expected to live to the point it’d be all too threatening to his supposed life span.

“Dean, this is serious.”  Sam said, and Dean shrugged.

“We’re _hunters_ , Sam, not exactly a safe job.  I’m not gonna live long enough to really be fucked by these, alright?”  Said Dean, tone exasperated as if Sam was the simpleton not understanding the obvious logic.

“That doesn’t matter!”  

“Who even _cares_?”

“ _I care_.”  Sam growled out with surprising conviction, and Dean blinked wide eyed at him.  Sam’s eyes had red flecks in them, hint of teeth peeking through shy of curled lips.  Well then.

“Easy there, Sammy, don’t get your panties in a knot.”  Dean said, palms up and licking his lips nervously.

“I’m not - it’s just - Dean,” Sam couldn’t seem to decide what to say, one hand raking through his hair as he huffed.

“Look, Sam, you know what happens when someone just _stops_ taking the pill?”  Dean emphasized, because it tended not to be pretty.

“It’s better than the effects of long term taking the pill.”  Rebutted Sam.

“Oh yes, because we have time for a _two week_ break, yeah?”  Dean bitterly said.  

“It’s just a chance that’ll happen.”

“Knowing our luck, Sam, it’s probably the only outcome.”  Dean said with a harsh chuckle.  A failure on his part, everything about this conversation, but at least it’s been long enough the whole being an omega thing is just a dull ache.  It burns a little brighter, when Sam’s alpha shows through, but _other_ things burn with it, southward thoughts that make Dean bite his tongue and curse half the time.  So he’s become pretty successful at blocking most of them out.

“Dean, just - just think about it, please?”  Sam said, puppy dog eyes in full bloom and Dean smartly hid himself from them.  Glaring down at his half eaten burger and he peeked a glance up at Sam.

“Why’s this so important to you all of a sudden?”  Dean asked.

“That’s - well.  I’m more clear headed now.”  Sam said, scratching at his arm and Dean figured Sam’s meaning he’s had ample time to get over Jessica and other things.  Doesn’t mean Sam’s got to latch his big head onto whether or not Dean’s doing fine as well.

“Sam, I appreciate the concern but, ah,” Dean started, stopping to sling an arm over their booth and pass for uncaring, “It’s better this way - I’m better this way.”

“No you’re not.”  Muttered Sam, low enough Dean had to strain his ears to hear.

“And who’re you to be the judge of that?”   _You’re not my alpha_ , Dean wanted to follow with, because Sam wasn’t and so Sam had virtually no say so in what Dean chose to do and not do with his body.

“Your - your brother who cares.”  Sam ended with, awkwardly, and Dean wanted to wince for the both of them.

“Yeah, my _little_ brother.  So shut your pie hole and eat your rabbit food.”  End of discussion.

-

“Why didn’t you come to my birthday?”  Sam asked, sudden in the darkness of their motel, weeks after their diner conversation.

Dean cracked an eye open, moonlight filtering in through thick curtains and alighting Sam’s body in various areas.  He was on his side, rivulets of hair glinting, slope of broad shoulders highlighted as it curved into trim hips and Dean curled his hands into fists in the sheets.  His mouth felt dry and he looked up, meeting Sam’s eyes for an electric, sharp moment, before closing.

“What?”  Dean murmured out, voice cracked with sleep.

“My party.  You never came.  I invited you.”  Sam said, his tone low like the words hurt to say.

“Oh.  I - I got caught up in a hunt.”  Dean said lamely.

“Could’ve texted me.”  Sam replied, sussing out Dean’s excuse.

“Sam,” Dean started, unsure of what he wanted to say.  He should’ve gone, would’ve, if he had the balls.  But he chickened out and - hey, Sam moved on just fine.  Found himself a girl and everything.

“Dean.”  Sam said, and as quick as anything his brother was standing by his bed, Dean glancing wide eyed up at Sam’s dark figure.  Sam leaned closer, one hand up and out like he wanted to touch and Dean felt his cheeks heat, found himself mesmerized by Sam’s focused eyes.

“That phone call.  You -”  Dean paused, licked his lips, “You said you wanted me.”  Dean said, and Sam just nodded softly from where he stood.

“Yeah.”  Sam agreed.

“Then why did you start dating Jessica then?  Was it because she wasn’t a - a, uh.”  Dean struggled for words, because he had to know - did Sam choose her because she was better than Dean - better than his fucked up omega big brother?

“Jesus - _no_ , Dean.”  Sam bit out with more truth than Dean felt possible for the implications, looking up at Sam shellshocked and Sam roughly shook his head, a hand raking through his hair.  “Fuck, you should know I don’t care about that shit.”

“How should I know?  You hardly say anything.”  About this topic, Dean meant, and Sam passed him a tired glance.

“You’re the one who avoids the topic like the plague, Dean.”  Sam said softly and he had a point.  Whenever Sam tried to bring up their tiers, Dean would shut down and hightail it, or change the subject with a warning glare.

“You would too.”  Dean said, voice cracking a hint and he turned to stare back at his pillow.

“Dean…”  Sam started, but Dean held up a hand.

“My question - Jessica.”  Dean wanted them back to square one, only further proving Sam’s statement on his avoidance.

Sam gave a rough sigh, but began anyway.  “It - It started that day.  My birthday - the one I invited you too.”  He said, flopping wearily to sit back on his bed.  “When you came I was planning to ask you to, uh, be my mate.”  It was Sam’s turn to stop, awkward, and Dean felt his heart thunder ever harder in his chest.  “Thought maybe it had been long enough you’d forgiven me for my spectacular fuck up.”  Sam said, softer, and Dean felt like turning his head down from the conversation at the memory.

“But then you never showed.  Thought maybe I fucked us up too bad, and Jess, she - she comforted me.  We were good friends and she knew I was waiting on someone special and when you didn’t show I just.  I don’t know.  I needed something.”  Murmured Sam, shoulders jerking up in a small shrug.  Dean’s heart tugged, mind running a mile a minute at Sam’s words because Sam - _Sam_ .  And he - if Dean only _showed_.

“Oh.”  Dean said softly.

“I still feel fucking terrible about before.  And I figured that you not showing was just my karma.”  Sam continued, referring to the night he first left the family.  And maybe Sam had some point but - Dean could really care less, he’s just tired.

“I don’t - It’s.  It’s forgiven, Sam.  Was awhile ago anyways.  S’just old news.”  Dean rambled, fingers nervously clenching in the sheets.  

“Doesn’t make it not fucked.”  Said Sam, bitterly, and Sam was right in a way so Dean didn’t bother with fighting.

“Look, I’m - I’m sorry that I - about not going.”  Dean said when Sam hid his eyes beneath too long bangs.

“It’s - It’s fine.  It was only fair, considering the shit I’ve given you about, uh, everything.”  Sam ended with lamely, and Dean gave a lazy, one armed shrug.

“Yeah, yeah It’s fine.”  Dean said in turn, eyes slipping closed and he missed the glance Sam shot him - remourse and hope wrapped up in one.

Dean had odd dreams that night.

-

Although since that conversation they became less aggressive with each other, not much else changed.  Sam was less subtle about his wandering eyes on Dean, and Dean didn’t nearly mind it as much when others mistook them for mates - he just played the shocked ‘I’m an alpha too, lady’ card as it was something he was entirely too used to.  And for formalities sake.

And if Dean was being honest with himself, the more often these occurrences happened, the more he let himself think on it.  Going off suppressants, presenting to Sam - but there was no time.  Everything was happening at once - the demon, dad, coming to terms with himself, _the_ hunt coming to a close - he shuffled the _maybe’s_ and the _what if’s_ to the back of his mind and focused on keeping his family alive and together.

And then they slayed the demon in one huge throwdown because it turned out other demons existed as well and the gun their father worked oh-so-hard to get only had _six goddamned bullets_ \- so picking which black eyed son of a bitch they wanted dead more was a bit of a toughie.  Of course after revenge was had and all was said and done their dad being John Winchester nodded to them in some profound silence and took off to go back to hunting on his own and Sam obviously wasted no time in planting a desperate kiss on Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes when Sam’s hands shook, holding him close and maybe Sam had a right to be so panicked because Dean may or may not have risked his life to keep Sam safe again.  Or really, Dean would _like_ to say he rolled his eyes and played it cool, but in all honesty both he and Sam were trembling messes as they held each other and cried like babies.

After _the_ hunt ended, everything was just - quiet.  Simple hunts here and there, and even though they shared a kiss nothing more happened between them.  They’d kiss if one almost died like an idiot on a hunt but - that was it.  They were closer but not _together_ , despite what everyone else thought.

And they were fine with that.

-

It wasn’t until months after Azazel was good and gone that Sam spoke up, staring out the window in the passengers and Dean jamming along to Metallica.

“We should take a break.”

“Hm?”  Dean hummed out, side glancing at Sam as he focused on the road.

“Like - an actual _break break_.”  Sam pronounced, hands motioning something that was supposed to prove his point and Dean quirked his head.

“And why should we do that?”  Dean asked.

“I don’t know.  Yellow Eyes is dead, Dad’s being Dad and - aren’t you at least a little tired?”  Sam looked to him, worry in his eyes and Dean shrugged.

“I feel fantastic.”  Dean said, proving his own point by turning the music up louder and singing along, tone deaf and effectively ending the conversation.

-

Dean was back from a candy run at the nearest convenience store, entering their motel in Arizona, Somewhere, and looking up from the key handle to Sam jumping back from Dean’s bag with - shock?  

“You okay there, Samsquatch?”  Dean asked, walking forward to inspect his bag that appeared pristine - untouched, but something about the almost shame in Sam’s eyes spoke otherwise.

“Fine - I’m fine.”  Sam stuttered out, scratching at the back of his head and Dean squinted his eyes.

“Uh-huh.  Right.”  Dean said slowly.

“Honest, feel good enough for a run - which sounds like a good idea actually so -”

“It’s raining.”

“Oh.  Uhm.  I knew that - I, uh, have to shower.”  And then Sam butt by, tail between legs and Dean shrugged off the odd behaviour as Sam’s freaky way of celebrating something or the other - maybe the kid solved a complex math problem that’s been hounding him.

He reached into his maybe-maybe-not touched bag and popped open his pill bottle, swallowing one dry and not flinching the slightest at the clinical taste.

And as he settled on the couch, flicking the TV on and ready to watch whatever crappy cable the motel could afford, he was only daunted once by the smallest niggling thought that maybe one day he could just _not_ take the suppressants.  They were over with the big daddy hunt, and Sam was _perhaps_ right on them needing a break.

But then he thought double, and decided, if anything, there was no way in hell Dean would be the first to make a move like that.  If Sam wanted something of them, the kid would have to make the first move - Dean would just patiently wait on the sidelines.

-

“Sam, this isn’t really necessary.”  Dean said as they stopped themselves at a decent hotel - the opposite of their usual.

Sam looked at him over the car as they got out, a sheepish grin on his face and leave it to Sam to ignore simple directions as ‘drive to Nevada’ and stop just one state before.  They were in the Colorado Mountains, it looked like.  Dean regretted letting Sam drive - then again, with how tired Dean’s been lately, it was probably a safety hazard to have him on the roads.

“C’mon, we could go for some downtime.”  Sam said, hefting both luggage bags easily on his freakishly broad shoulders and Dean frowned when Sam left nothing for Dean to carry.

“What are you?  My alpha?”  Dean asked, pointing to both bags and Sam shrugged with an easy grin.

“Maybe.”  Sam replied.

“You do realize we’ve only kissed a few times?  And that, uh, that’s kinda all?”  Dean said in turn, eyes slanted in accusation and Sam gave a small huff of laughter.

“You’re tired so I thought I’d carry our stuff.  I’ll even get the room -”

“Sam.”  Dean put his hand out on Sam’s chest, effectively stopping the giant puppy in his path and Sam frowned down at his hand.

“What?”

“I can get the room _and_ I can carry shit, alright?  I just haven’t slept enough, s’all.”  Dean said, and he narrowed in on the slight flash of guilt in Sam’s hazel eyes.  Maybe he felt bad for going gung-ho on the decisions lately?  Dean wouldn’t know, knowing Sam.

“Whatever.”  Sam said, after a moment of thought and pushed past Dean, leaving his brother staring at his retreating figure.  Sam was marching towards the office with determination, and Dean spent a moment longer looking at him with wide eyes before shooting off to him.

“Sam!”

-

“I’ll be right back, gonna pick up some supplies.”  Sam called out almost an hour ago now, insisting Dean stay for some reason or the other.  Dean didn’t really pay much attention, mostly because Doctor Sexy was playing - and if there was one alpha that made Dean even think about ditching the suppressants, well, it was certainly that Doctor Sexy.

Dean wasn’t sure why that character got to him so easily - and maybe, if he really got down to it, it might be the uncanny resemblance between him and Sam.  But deep analysing of things like that were for losers and people who didn’t take a daily dosage of mind bleach.

They’ve been at the hotel for a couple of days now, and Sam’s been strangely attentive to all of Dean’s needs so far - buying him whatever and letting Dean choose the TV and food.  Dean would complain if he wasn’t so tired and if, in all honesty, the pampering didn’t feel so nice.

However, as the current standing of time with Sam being gone - that being, reaching an anticlimactic hour - Dean started to feel unwell.

“What the fuck?”  Dean said softly, voice laced with confusion when his body shook with a strange electric shock that curled his toes and made him gasp.

Now, at this point in time with Sam being gone, Dean would be exploiting the chair in the corner with the slot for quarters and vibrating cushions now that Doctor Sexy was over - but withheld his usual activities with the over encompassing feeling of _wrong_ shaking through him as an almost familiar, very foreign warmth crept through every inch of him.  

It was like liquid fire in his limbs, his arms and legs unresponsive and it was pure luck he managed to get to the expansive living area of the hotel room without hitting any walls or too many end tables.  Everything was distant and too close, and he closed his eyes against an unmistakable wave of _want_ that wracked through his body.

“Sam.”  He said, mindless, more moan then word as he slumped against the closest wall, panting heavily and - and he was in _heat_.  Which - which was impossible because he’s been on suppressants, hasn’t missed a day - yet here he was, red faced and feeling slick wet his pants and boxers.

“Fuck - _fuck_.”  Dean panted out, hands itching with the need to push inside where he felt empty and he whined when the door burst open, Sam’s thick alpha scent entering the air quick and everywhere and he drank in the smell greedily.

Dean wanted to latch himself to Sam’s body, for comfort because maybe being pressed up against all that hard skin would stop the shivers wracking his body - but was too weak to follow through with the action and instead bared his neck to Sam, hearing his brother’s sharp intake as Sam stormed his way to Dean.

“I’m - I’m in heat, Sammy.”  Dean moaned out weakly, hands instantly latching onto Sam’s shoulder when his brother came close enough and he shuddered when Sam nosed past his face and buried himself in Dean’s neck.  Sam licked at the skin there, teeth grazing over the vulnerable flesh and Dean arched into the touch.

“You smell so sweet - like apples and sugar and _home_ .”  Sam muttered, and Dean nodded nonsensically, shivering when Sam gave the softest bite, promise of pressure and he _wanted_.

“Sam.”  Dean whimpered, a plea and question and Sam reared back to his full height to look down at Dean.

“Yeah?”  Sam whispered.

“ _Heat_.  How - how am I,” Dean broke off to shiver as another wave of want hit him harder than anything before with an alpha so close, “How am I in h-heat?”

“Dunno’, sugar, but we might as well do something about it.”  Sam rumbled, Dean feeling it close against him and he helplessly let slip a whine as his brain steadfastly agreed with Sam doing something about this whole heat thing.  Sam started to lick up his neck, ending to lap at the side of Dean’s mouth and Dean trembled with the force of _needwantnow_ that bit through him at the gentle touches.

“You do know I’ve never d-done anything like this?”  Dean hissed out, moaning in pleasure pain when Sam bit down hard on his lower lip at the soft exclaim.  Dean would be impressed at how coherent he was right now, but then Sam started licking at his sore mouth and that kinda threw any and all cohesion out the window.

“You’ve never?  With anyone?”  Sam asked, tone low like nothing Dean’s ever heard and it made Dean squirm.

“K-kinda hard to without them noticing the whole o-omega thing.”  Dean stuttered out, fingers clenching nervously into the flesh of Sam’s shoulders and he gasped when Sam with an actual _growl_ crashed his lips to Dean’s.

The kiss was fierce arousal and passion, Sam’s tongue forcing Dean’s mouth open and tasting his brother, Dean panting into the kiss and with eager inexperience tried to return the flavour of heat.  

Sam’s hands tilted Dean’s head into it, and it was all mind boggling good.  Sam’s taste new and exciting and making Dean’s legs shiver with a newfound weakness, his broad shoulders safety and home and his scent encompassing and shrouding Dean’s senses in a heady blanket.

A sharp nip to his lower lip and Dean moaned, chasing the press of Sam’s lips as his brother stood to his full height, drinking in the sight of Dean’s glazed eyes and reddened, swollen lips, greedily.  Dean shivered under the heated stare, hands clenching in Sam’s shirt and steadily losing his coherent thoughts, wanting Sam’s clothes gone like yesterday and Sam claiming him like he should’ve done _forever_ ago - his hole clenched at the thought, slick oozing out faster at the idea of Sam over him, big and immovable, pushing his knot into him and Dean whined, rearing up into Sam’s neck to press desperate kisses there.

“Please, Sammy, _please_ , please.”  Dean muttered.

“It’s alright, sh, _sh,_ I got you, Dean.”  Pulling Dean away from the wall Sam led him to the closest bed, Dean stumbling when his legs forgot their directive and Sam easily pulling both their weights for them.

“Please please please.”  Dean kept up with, shaking where Sam left him on the bed.  He desperately wanted to follow Sam when his brother kneeled up and away to pull off his clothes, instead tried to get his own off but couldn’t get his hands to work quite right.  

Sam huffed out silent amusement, leaning back over Dean and with much steadier hands went to pull Dean out of his shirt and jeans, leaving him in his drenched boxers and Sam’s nostrils flared when Dean’s sweet scent became all the more stronger.  Dean’s face burned with shame and arousal, and he hid the blush under his hands when Sam peeled away Dean’s boxers with minute trembles.

“Oh god.”  Dean whimpered, hiding his face away in his shoulder when his dick slapped onto his belly and Sam shared the same exclaim when his eyes zeroed in on Dean’s hole, small and pink and practically _leaking_ slick.

Dean could feel the intense stare on him, hole clenching and he wanted to cover himself in embarrassment, _despite_ the heat telling him to _do it, spread your legs, let him see, let him take care of you_.  “Don-Don’t stare, Sammy.”  He hiccuped out, breath coming too fast for any real words to make it out.

Sam didn’t reply, instead, set reverent hands to slide up and down Dean’s thighs before stopping right below Dean’s ass cheeks, hands digging in and before Dean knew it Sam had his ass up in the air.  Dean folded in half and knees kissing his chest as Dean felt a whole new level of exposed.  Dean only pushed against the hold for a second, just to see what Sam would do, and also, perchance, because embarrassment churned heavily in him at what Sam was looking at.

“Sam.”  Dean panted out, hands clenching in the sheets and Sam made a soft noise.

“Just wanna see you, Dean, just wanna see you.”  Sam said, gentle and breathless as he nosed his way past Dean’s dick to press the softest kiss on Dean’s entrance, tongue peeking out for a shy taste of Dean’s slick.

Dean shocked at the touch, biting into his lower lip to stifle the breathy moan that wanted to escape and fidgeting under the hot gust of air that was Sam’s _breath_ on him.

“Fuck, you taste so _good_ .”  Sam said, tone a low purr that did wonders to Dean’s stomach and without further notice began to quite literally eat at Dean’s hole.  Soft bites and licks and Sam’s tongue _pushing_ into him, leaving Dean a whimpering sodden mess, begging for more because Sam’s tongue wasn’t _enough_ and he needed more, needed Sam to force his way in and it would feel so so good when he did.

“Sammy, _please_.”  Dean begged, turning his head this way and that while Sam’s hands kneaded his ass and Sam’s mouth eagerly lapped up the slick that escaped from Dean.

Sam pulled away, Dean whining at the loss of contact before Sam lowered his body back to the bed only to recapture his lips in another heady kiss.  Clash of teeth but Dean could care less, hands tangling in Sam’s hair and wanting his brother as close as he could get him.  He arched his back into Sam’s large hands wandering down his body, jumping slightly when Sam pushed his legs apart and stroked up his straining dick just a moment before continuing on down.

Sam rubbed curiously over Dean’s hole, almost like he was considering what to do, and Dean’s body wracked with shivers under the slight touches.  He pulled at Sam’s shoulders, panting and red faced and Sam shifted his hungry stare to Dean’s glazed one, Sam’s eyes dialated to the point only a thin ring of hazel was left.  “Sammy,” was all Dean could manage, and Sam nodded like he understood before pressing one finger into Dean, Dean’s body opening easy and warm around the intrusion it hungrily called for.

“Ah,” Dean said, soft and shocked, body not knowing whether to arch into or away from the electric touch.  The last time he had anything inside himself was years ago, that fake knot during his first heat, and he could never quite rid himself of the daunting sensation of something spreading him wide, and he moaned when Sam pressed another eager finger inside.

“Fuck, you’re so warm.”  Sam rumbled out, kneeling up to watch his fingers disappear into the incredibly hot warmth of his brother, adding a third finger and groaning at the already tight stretch of Dean’s reddened hole.  

“Sammy.”  Dean whined out at the third finger, body shyly rocking into the thrust of Sam’s hand when Sam brushed over this one little spot that made Dean see stars and Sam had many bitten off curses to give at the sight - Dean messy and pushing just so onto his fingers and Sam needed to be inside Dean _now_ , and Dean was whole heartedly on the same page.

Sam reluctantly pulled his fingers out of Dean’s hole, fingers gleaming with slick that he used to wet his own cock.  Dean watching the sight with a fire in his belly because Sam was _big_ , and his knot would only he more so, and that made Dean’s dick jump and slick work double time.  When Sam deemed himself sufficient Dean found his legs pushed up and out again, lower body easily held in the air as Sam positioned himself at Dean’s gleaming hole.

“You ready for this, sugar?”  Sam asked, and Dean thought the question was stupid and rhetorical, enough thought left in him to nod wildly at the statement so Sam would just _push into him already_.

Without further warning Sam pushed, head popping in and Dean clenched tight around it, moaning.  Sam shushed him, rubbing a soothing hand up Dean’s flank before pressing the rest of his length inside Dean, letting out a choked moan at the impossibly tight, wet heat that met him.  Dean cried out when Sam fully nestled inside, balls meeting the soft warmth of Dean’s ass, and Dean reached out to Sam with clumsy hands because he needed Sam close.

He watched Sam tear his eyes away from the undoubtedly debauched mess his hole must be, stretched tight and pink around Sam’s big dick.  His face burned with the imagery, hands tugging slow and weak at Sam until his brother got the picture and leaned over Dean, making Dean feel safe under the warm blanket of Sam’s body.  Dean hid himself under it, hand clenching on Sam’s shoulder and Sam pressed soft kisses to Dean’s cheeks and neck.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”  Sam muttered, rocking his hips slightly to give point and Dean moaned.  “You want me to give it to you?”  Sam asked, pointlessly in Dean’s mind because Dean felt like he was already giving off five million signals and one for Sam to start already.

Dean didn’t answer, let his hips fitfully push back onto Sam and clenched tight around his brother, hoping to get the message across and letting out a moan loud enough to make himself blush when Sam _finally_ pulled out to give one harsh thrust back in.  Rocking Dean’s body with it and sending out a wave of electric pleasure that Dean eagerly arched back into, moans and whines fucked out of him with every thrust and slide over that little hidden spot inside and Dean would not last under the assault.

Dean threw his head back and to the side, crying out and he needed something more, just one more little thing and he put one hand to the back of Sam’s head, pushing his brother desperately to his bared neck.  He wanted Sam’s bite there, needed people to know who he belonged to, and he begged Sam with senseless words and pleas.

“Fuck - you really want me to?”  Sam said roughly, not pausing his thrusts for one second, and Dean nodded wildly.

“Please, alpha, please.”  Dean begged, cheeks flushing at his cracked, broken tone.  

Sam let out a low moan at that, knot swelling just at the thought and he dropped his head to Dean’s neck with eager excitement.  “This is gonna be a little painful, sugar.”  Sam groaned out, and Dean didn’t care, just wanted Sam’s mark and Sam’s knot on him in him and he let out a high, breathy moan, when Sam pushed the large knot in with one powerful thrust.

He felt Sam swell up even more, securing Sam’s dick safely inside him and just as Sam began to spill his seed deep in him Sam let his fangs bite through Dean’s soft skin and bond them - the double assault simply too much and with a choked cry Dean came, thin, clear liquid shooting from him and coating both their chests.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”  Dean panted out, coherency back if just for a few moments, trembling with the pleasurable sensation of Sam still filling him up with his come, promising him pups and home and safety and crying out again as another sharp wave of pleasure shocked through him when Sam lapped lazily at the new mark on Dean’s neck.

“You okay?”  Sam asked softly, looking up through sweat slick bangs and Dean nodded, shaky and tightened his arms and legs around Sam in case Sam didn’t get the message.  

Dean felt fucking fantastic, a deep seated instinct in him purring with content and he hummed with it, happy to lie beneath Sam and let Sam fill him with come all day long if it felt this good.

-

They carried on like that for the next two weeks, Sam disappearing only ever to get them food and water, or to wipe them both down with a rag before getting filthy all over again.  

They fucked everywhere, the sofas, the walls, the table and shower and anywhere else they could fit themselves, Dean’s heat demanding and maybe Dean would have gone off the pill sooner - he’s still confused about how that happened - if he knew how intensely good it would feel to have Sam shove him to his knees and force his big cock down Dean’s throat, or have Sam spread his legs wide and fuck him over the kitchenettes counter.

By the thirteenth day Sam was leaning against said kitchenette counter, one hand buried in Dean’s soft locks while Dean slowly and surely sucked at the entire length of him, humming low in his throat because Sam shivers when he does that.  Sam let out a bitten off curse that meant his knot would swell soon and Dean pulled off to pant up at Sam with lidded eyes.

He let Sam drag him to his feet, smiling a little with how easy Sam lifted him and swung him up onto the counter, the low hanging thing easily lining up Sam’s spit shined dick with Dean’s eager hole and Dean gave a small content moan when Sam pushed home.  Snug and warm inside, Sam gave just slow thorough thrusts, Dean’s legs spread wide and rocking with the motion.

Dean buried one hand in Sam’s hair, the other helping keep his balance on the counter and he clenched his hands whenever Sam hit that perfect little spot.  Sam peppered kisses all over his neck and face, landing with a chaste one on Dean’s mouth when Sam pushed his knot in slow and sure, Dean opening easy around the welcomed stretch.

“I got a few questions for you.”  Dean said when Sam was locked secure inside him, tone breathless but clear as the heat had finally passed.

“Hm?”  Sam mumbled, looking up at him through bangs and Dean pushed them from his face with a lazy smirk.

“One, what’s with all the ‘sugar’ with you?  Got a name, you know.”  Dean said, and Sam blushed a little.

“Oh - you just, uhm, well - you smell like apple pie and sugar.  So I just thought - well, unless you don’t like it -”  Sam was rambling and Dean silenced him with a quick peck.

“Shush, you, I think it’s kinda cute.”  Dean said with a shrug, and Sam let out a relieved sigh.

“Anyway, not that I’d be too pissed or anything - not after that whole spectacular display of fucking - but, ah,” Dean paused, tapping a finger on his chin and Sam stared at him with confusion.  “How exactly did my pills just _stop_ working?”  Sam still didn’t look to get it, so Dean pressed on.

“It’s almost like someone just _messed_ with them or something.”  Dean followed with, and watched with pleased satisfaction horror dawn on Sam’s face.  Dean was sure if Sam wasn’t currently knotted to Dean he’d be making a run for it.

“I’m sorry, they were just so bad for you and -” Sam stumbled over his own words, panic and fear and Dean laughed, Sam staring wide eyed at him like he was some sort of maniac.

“No wonder you were being so fucking nice all the time - it was starting to wig me out.”  Dean said, tone light and easy and Sam appeared lost.  Deciding to help the kid out Dean pat a hand on his shoulder, Sam jolting with the friendly touch.  “Look, I’m a little pissed you took matters into your own hands and all,” to this Sam looked away guiltily, “ _But_ , they are pretty fucked up for my health and all and you being my annoying little brother couldn’t help but stick your nose in _my_ business.”

“Sorry.”  Sam muttered, scratching at his hair nervously and Dean leaned in to do it for him.

“Fuck it, we’re already here and bonded and sides’, knowing you, I’m surprised it took you this long.”  Dean said honestly.

“I - I don’t know whether that’s a compliment or something to be ashamed of.”  Sam said to the remark of him taking this long to go behind Dean’s back - Sam had more self control, he was sure.

“It’s a little of both here, but seeing as you’re knotted to me and all, and hellfires _not_ raining down our doorstep yet, I figured I can’t be too mad.”  Dean said with a shrug, leaning back against the kitchenettes cabinets.  Sam followed to press shy kisses to the mark on Dean’s neck, and Dean huffed at the slow, tense movements.

“And you’re not upset at this?  Thought you hated being an omega.”

“I do - or, did.  I don’t know.  After all these years I guess I got tired of hating something I can’t change.”  Dean said, looking up at the ceiling.

“Then why were you still acting all macho-macho alpha and taking blockers?”

“Force of habit.”  Dean said, simple as that.

“Dean - you can’t just -”  Sam started, and Dean rolled his eyes and clenched down hard and fast around Sam’s dick, Sam breaking his words to gasp.

“Look, stop trying to fucking _psychoanalyse_ or whatever you’re doing and just roll with me here?”  Dean said, tugging at Sam’s hair and forcing his brother to look him in the eye.  “I’m _fine_ , I’m _happy_ , and I’m _probably_ knocked up with your stupid gigantor pups.”  Dean felt Sam’s cock twitch at that, a renewed burst of seed coating Dean’s insides and Dean laughed.

“ _Fuck_ , don’t say shit like that.”  Sam groaned out.

“What?  That you’re my baby daddy?  Your kid’s eyes are going to be growing inside me?”  Dean asked, impish.

“You’re going to ruin that for me.”  Sam said.

“How about this -”

“ _Dean_.”  Sam growled out in warning, not wanting to hear whatever other stupid ways Dean could put they were going to be parents.

Dean carried on anyways, “that my belly will be swelled up with your pups?”

“ _Shit_ .”  Sam groaned, because _that_ imagery was not gross or stupid and his alpha jumped for joy at the thought.

Dean laughed at the different emotions flickering across Sam’s face.  “Weirdo, turned on by the idea of pregnant me.”  Dean said and Sam actually looked a little embarrassed at that, which wouldn’t do.

Dean leaned close to nip at Sam’s lip and give him a deep and thorough kiss because kissing is now Dean’s favourite thing to do.  “Hey now, don’t go all quiet on me.”  Dean said, then, moving to breath into Sam’s ear, “C’mon, picture it with me big guy, my belly round with your babies.  My skin would be so warm and tight there when you get your hands on me, wouldn’t it?  My clothes wouldn’t fit either, probably have to wear yours, and imagine that?  Me, all round and soft with your pups inside, only wearing those flannel shirts you like so much.”

Each word only served to rile Sam up more, Dean grinning deviously when Sam’s breath became low pants and he felt pretty accomplished.  If Dean took a moment to think about it, the thought of being knocked up with Sam’s kid got him pretty hard to, but Dean would be caught dead before he admitted that.

“My shirts wouldn’t even fit you, they’d stretch too tight over the pup.”  Sam muttered, voice rough and he had one hand splayed possessive  and heavy on Dean’s belly - Dean hummed his agreement.

“True.”

Sam didn’t say anything in reply, instead, groaned out deep and low in his throat before pressing a hungry and predatory kiss to Dean, one Dean gleefully returned.

And if this is what he got for being an omega - well, this wasn’t all bad.

-

“You do realize you’re going to have to make this up to me, right?”  Dean said, a few days later when they packed up and left the hotel behind.  They were headed to Bobby’s, planning to use his connections to find themselves a nice place to lie low for a long while.  If they were going to have a kid Dean would be damned if they’re going to raise them as a hunter.

“I solemnly swear to handle all baby duty for the first kid?”  Sam pitched, and Dean shot him a look from the drivers.

“You suggesting we’re gonna be having more?”

“You saying you don’t want more?  Sam shot back and Dean had to shrug to that one.

“Let’s decide that _after_ I shit out the screaming little thing.”

“Fair enough.”  Sam agreed.

It was silent for a moment longer, but Dean could feel the storm brewing from Sam and he waited patiently for his brother to speak up again.

“Do we - do we tell dad?”

Dean thought on the question a moment.  Not knowing what actually would be found down that road and decided fuck it - they were all adults here and Dean was finally feeling _happy_.

“Nope.  Just let him find out on his own.”  Dean said with a shrug.  “He’ll probably get white hair from shock.”  Dean snickered out, and to Sam’s still-overthinking-it-stare he shot a carefree smile.

“Cheer up boy scout, or else I’m gonna have to be worried over whether or not the pups gonna have your big forehead.”

Sam brightened at that, before clouding his look with offense.  “Excuse me?   _I’m_ going to have to hope the kid doesn’t end up with your hygiene or appetite.”  Sam shuddered at the thought.

“I bet it’s going to have your freakish obsession with _health_ , going by my luck.”  Dean said.

“No, judging by _my_ luck, it’s going to be just as loud and annoying as you.”  Sam shot back, and Dean gave him a look that suggested Dean would be all for that.

“Bitch.”  Dean said with a grin.

“Jerk.”  Sam replied, grinning just as bright, and despite all the bullshit they still needed to talk about and square out - Dean’s headspace wasn’t the brightest of places - Dean felt with an unusual sense of optimism, that things were going to be alright.

-

 


End file.
